


Seizure of power

by DamadiSangue



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-18 05:27:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7301293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DamadiSangue/pseuds/DamadiSangue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The truth is that Excella hates to be taken by surprise.</i>
  <br/>
  <i>She sinks her teeth into his lips and let his blood wetting her dreams and her heart, careless of the danger - disdainful and arrogant as ever.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seizure of power

 

  
"Love is the funeral of hearts and an ode for cruelty."  
\- The funeral of hearts -

  
  


 

 

**Seizure of power**

 

 

The truth is that Excella _hates_ to be taken by surprise.  
She sinks her teeth into his lips and let his blood wetting her dreams and her heart, careless of the danger - disdainful and arrogant as ever.  
Wesker laughs on her skin and has the same consistency of the ice.  
"I don't find it funny at all." Excella replies, her hair a rumpled knot and her dress a rag on the floor "That necklace cost five thousand dollars."  
It is a dialogue unanswered what started Excella and then she sinks her nails into his back until she can feel the flesh give way beneath them - she wants to _hurt_ him.  
"Albert."

 _"Miss Gionne?"_  
_"In person. And you are?"_

Excella bites and scratches, a wild cat who will never give up, a woman whose ambition knows no limits.  
He is cruel between her thighs and Excella claws the arm of the couch,; she doesn't remember one time where Wesker was nothing, but a poisonous bite and a demanding tongue, his hands through her hair and the silence of the african night around them.  
"That girl..." she begins, and sighs on his mouth, looking for a love that never existed "That Jill Valentine ..."  
She is naked in his arms, but Excella no steps back to his menacing look, eyes that burn like her tomorrow.  
"Who is she?"

_Jealousy._

Wesker tilt his head to one side, a curious expression on his face.  
" _What_ is she?" Excella emphasizes, and approaches him without any fear, a soft fold that arches against the edges and the hardness of a man who knows no compromise.  
"An old friend." he grants, touching her breasts in an _almost_ gentle caresses "Your new favorite toy." and he squeezes, earning a bite on his shoulder and her hands between his legs, shameless as her smile.  
"So, you flatter me." her hands glide, adapt, _squeeze_ a desire that is only the most merciless manifestation of manipulation "I might even come to think that you love me."  
Wesker laughs again, and it's a sound that engulfs everything - hopes, promises and illusions.  
"Never."  
Excella smiles and puts to rest any other reply.

It isn't really correct that Excella not even remember a time when Wesker was _almost_ gentle.  
One morning too red and too hot _he_ had looking for her, tearing her from her sleep.  
He had surprised her by leaving her lead every movement, every thrust.  
He was left to dominate without uncertainty and Excella suspected that behind all of this there was just another form of manipulation, bone launched to a needy dog, but from selfish female who she was, she hasn't declined the offer.  
She had then taken away all that he could give, food to a visceral, primal need, the Uroboros still an idea far and between her thighs an indecent orgasm.  
When he stayed with her until the first light of sunset Excella had understood to be lost.

Psychopaths are manipulative by nature and need.  
Excella knows it and doesn't care, because feelings are strange and twisted deformation - because even the beasts can love; just do not call it that.  
She moans against his chest and tighten his nape in a vise, urging him to continue.  
It hurts and at the same time makes her human - makes them _normal._  
Does well and at the same time breaks her heart - this is what you earn to welcome the monsters in your bed.  
Wesker sinking into her, biting her neck, the shoulder, the full curve of her breast, his fingers moving between her legs to the rhythm of his thrusts.  
Excella mutters something and looking for his mouth with her fingertips, receives another bite - another since they started this strange, unhealthy relationship.  
A thrust that takes her breath away, his body that crushes, his tounge flowing languidly between her breasts and then over her mouth, a tacit request - a belated apology.  
Excella welcomes his orgasm with no regrets.

He would have to leave.  
Excella wasn't expecting anything else and was already preparing to waves of awareness that threatened to crush her in their clarity.  
Part of her - very small; the one that didn't enjoy torturing people and shove lethal virus in their veins, screaming that there was still a way out.  
That contact the BSAA was the best idea and that they could protect her.  
_But from what?_ she repeated then, and was always Albert to get her back, as if he perceived her doubts and could smell them on her skin, then licking them away with the promise of being a queen - his.

_Manipulation. Control. Power._

Excella starts to get up, but is retained by a steel grip around her wrist.  
She raises an eyebrow, staring dumbfounded, a foot already on the cold title cold of the control room and one still on the couch.  
_What's up?_ she asks him with her eyes, blue as the African sky _What happened?_  
Wesker doesn't respond, fueling a feeling for him empty and insubstantial.  
"Stay." he says, and understands that he had won when Excella Gionne gives him the same smile of their first time.

 _"And you are?"_  
_"Albert Wesker. I think I have something that might be helpful for you."_  
_Curious eyes, blacks hair and a clean visage, no makeup - a young face._  
_"Or?"_  
_"All virus samples and biological weapons from the Umbrella Corporation. The B.O.W. and Nemesis projects. Even a rare example of Las Plagas."_  
_Hush._  
_"And they are all on this table, right in front of you."_  
_An anonymous folder, the Umbrella's logo that undulates like a beautiful and dangerous siren._  
_Excella smiles and proves without any shame her twenty years._

Curled up against his side, Excella has returned a fresh graduate girl, full of ambitions.  
On his mouth she is a cruel and merciless woman, the director of a company that is also the belly of the beast.  
Wesker _believes_ that for many men Excella can be a fascinating creature, devoid of all morality and with a brilliant mind; moreover, she has created his serum and the first genetic map of the viral distilled of the Stairway of the Sun.

_Men, not beasts. Not gods._

He breathe in, and the smell - blood and desire - reminds him _why_ he had chosen her, despite everything.

_"You've been an excellent asset, Excella."_

This he will tell her a step away from death; _this_ and nothing else.

_You were. Stop. But you'll never be._

The Excella heart beats at almost the same pace of his, but if Wesker had ripped his hearts from his chest he wouldn't be surprised to find only ashes and empty cavities, on the contrary of her, a lump of flesh and pulsating life.

 _"Love is for the weak."_  
_"I'm not weak."_  
_"Good."_

In his arms Excella is already dust.


End file.
